


Eulogy

by reus123



Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: Angst time :), Experimental, M/M, This reads like a self insert but it most definitely isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 18:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18629299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reus123/pseuds/reus123
Summary: Baby, seasons change but people don't





	Eulogy

**Author's Note:**

> "The Take Over, the Breaks Over" - Fall Out Boy

He's known you since you were young, but you were both so happy then, and so eager, so ambitious, the flame of success only a mere spark that brightened the lights in your eyes. 

(That was the spring of our lives, he muses, sipping on wine that tastes of wistful memory, drenching himself in the nostalgic scent.)

And it was a new start for you both, thrust out into a world so different from the one you inhabited previously, the quaint thatched roofs whispering in the wind as you stood, surveying the land that you would one day rule. 

(You have never been a benevolent ruler and he has always criticised this downfall.)

Then the summer came, wilting the flowers with a scorching glare that seemed to burn into his back.

(The sting of betrayal as he stared into your triumphant eyes.)

It has never left, that pain, it haunts him during his coldest hours, nagging in the back of his mind like (a lover that he once knew.) a hook dragging his darkest thoughts into harsh daylight. 

(The inner workings of an angry mind are a terrible affair, captured in the hush of tar black nights.)

Autumn brought with it swirling winds (they desert him the way you did.), the remnants of what once bloomed now crumbling before his very eyes.

(The gloss on his memories of you is now cracking and peeling, as old as the photographs that he keeps trapped in their glass frames, your smile the colour of autumn leaves.)

Perhaps this is our winter, then. 

(It is colder than he remembers it being, the warmth of your hand no longer.)

His actions frozen by the frost that creeps (so slowly, akin to the way your skin loses its rosy pallor.) into every corner of his home, corrupting his vivid memories with an unbreakable ice (as cold and blue as your eyes, they stare eternally into the room.).

(A king of ice, that is he, sat upon a lonely throne with a frozen heart.)

His hand strays, hoping to brush against yours, to lend a shine to the rust-coloured ring (it was silver once, as optimistic as your perceived future together.) weighing down your finger. 

(He'd do anything to bring you back, but he can't.)

**Author's Note:**

> Sometime in mid-2017 I asked myself "hey what if the GF actually killed someone?" and this happened.


End file.
